Poker Hand
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: Life requires strategy, a sharp analysis and a certain penchant for lying. WK fic.
1. Dealing a Hand

**1. Dealing a hand**

She used to come when the sky turned gray and Manhattan disappeared behind a phantasmagorical fog, the skyline getting lost in the darkness of the water as if natural elements and the metallic work of men could finally abandoned themselves to a long-awaited fusion.

Sometimes the rain joined the singular shades in a silent ballet of drops falling down the windows. By then she forgot all the rest, turned her cell phone down and plunged with a barely restrained delectation into the contemplation of a melancholic world that matched a bit too much her own sentiments, the ones she kept for herself buried deep inside, locked away.

She had always been like that, preferring the salt of tears to the bright sound of laughter for finding something noble in sadness that didn't have any equivalent in a joyful world.

Though it was better if nobody came to know about her singular penchants, just in case.

"I am sorry, I am late."

Reluctantly enough her eyes abandoned the view over Manhattan for Will's brown gaze. She shrugged, smiling away his apologies.

"Have you ordered yet?"

"Just a Martini..."

"Good... Grace wouldn't let me go, for whatever reason. I thought that I would never make it here and with the storm that is coming... The cabs are going crazy."

It had all started with a book, four hundred pages to finally realize they might have had a lot more in common than what they had imagined until now but before the skepticism of their friends, they had chosen to remain quiet over it. Besides meeting every week secretly was rather exciting, unusual in their monotone routines.

She had thought about The River Cafe almost immediately for its distance with the city, this safe side it brought to their small fantasy and the cozy spirit of the place. A week had passed by then another one and all of a sudden what had been an unexpected event in their lives had turned into an evidence they couldn't now deny.

"How is Stanley, any news from Shanghai? I wanted to call him today but I had a last-minute meeting with someone."

"I have no idea..."

Before Karen's obvious discomfort, Will cleared his voice and intended a pale smile but she swept it all away with a gesture of her hand then rolled her eyes.

"He is probably busy. Isn't it logical when it comes to a business trip?"

They had no specific rules. Any kind of conversation could be made and if a matter actually bothered one of them, they discreetly oriented it towards a lighter topic.

"Oh, yes... Sure, definitely... It is."

Thunders pierced the background in a fatal omen as lightnings began to embrace the sky in an electrical kiss. Storms weren't rare in July, on the contrary. The temperatures kept on rising until the air got too heavy and the chemistry exploded in a million pieces.

She didn't like the summer except when it started raining.

Things seemed so cruelly easy when they were together sharing a meal that as they left a tip and headed out of the restaurant, something always oppressed her heart, just a little and if on certain evenings she was glad to go back home, most of the time Karen would have preferred it all to get suspended.

No pressure, no obligation, no compromise...

Life should have looked like that, endlessly.

The rain hadn't stopped as they reached the sidewalk later in the evening. She could feel the drops passing underneath the linen of her dress, cooling down her skin in a soft caress.

"Let's walk to the bridge and we will get a cab."

"I don't have any umbrella with me."

She didn't reply and began to walk instead, her arms crossed on her chest. The night had fallen over New York but the dark blue of the sky seemed to get stolen every now and then by the golden shades of lightnings, invisible stars sparkling somewhere, behind the clouds.

The cacophony of the traffic took them away from their peaceful evening as they finally arrived on a bigger street. The contrast was harsh, heartbreaking somehow. They stopped under a streetlight and looked at the cars passing by, waiting for a yellow one to appear.

It took some time, for whatever reason.

If she had had to find an explanation to what happened at this point of the night, she would have advanced the eventuality of a lack, the feeling to be empty and the terrible necessity to rush away from a loneliness that had begun to weigh.

And then there was Stanley, Shanghai...

She could have found a whole series of excuses but none of them would have sounded right mainly because it was unexpected, unplanned.

She made a step forward, grabbed his nape then kissed him deeply.

She felt him gasp under her surprising move, stumble backwards before his hands made contact with her shoulders and he broke abruptly apart, pushing her away with strength.

They remained still, staring at each other in silence before they made contact back with reality and she lifted her arm as a cab arrived at the corner of the street.

She stepped in first, gave her address to the driver then locked her eyes with the landscape on the other side of the window, trying to ignore at the most the man who was sitting by her side.

Her heart was beating fast. Her cheeks were hot. Her mouth was dry. Her throat hurt.

She felt bad.

The journey remained awkwardly silent, rocked by the subtle sound of the rain drops falling on the windows, the tires sliding on the damp asphalt.

Madison Avenue was strangely empty for a summer evening. The car stopped in front of her building. Feverishly she tended a bill to the driver and opened the door only to get wrapped by the cool breeze of the night.

She rushed inside, not daring a single gaze towards the cab and Will then only allowed herself to breath as the doors of the elevator got closed and the machine began its journey to the last floor.

**_For years now Karen Walker had assimilated life to a simple game of strategy where only the smartest ones could succeed. It required a high dose of courage, a lot of ambition, an incredible stubbornness and a passion for challenges; taking bets at any risk._**

**_Though that evening as she plunged in the warmth of her bath and closed her eyes, doubts spread over her mind. She didn't seem to have received the right hand of cards to win the game this time._**


	2. Making Bets

**2. Making bets**

He wouldn't come. Because of her unexpected move the week before he would decline their meeting at The River Cafe and probably even put a definitive end to this odd habit they had developed.

Unless... Unless he had enough courage to face things then eventually talk about them, calmly.

Either way, she knew that it wouldn't be easy and that by kissing him, she had broken down their whole relationship.

"Karen, you aren't listening!"

Without the slightest sign of embarrassment before the remark, her eyes abandoned the contemplation of her agenda to look at Grace instead. If her friend had been talking then she hadn't even heard her, lost as she had been in her wonders, dreadful fears.

"What do you want, honey?"

"Let's start with your attention."

For once she renounced to follow Grace in their teasing game. She wasn't in the mood for it. The temperatures had kept on rising those past few days _ making it all sticky, just as she hated _ and she was tired, worried.

All of a sudden it seemed that a thick wall of circumstances had decided to play against her until she abdicated.

Standing up, she headed very slowly to the mini-fridge and took a bottle of water out of it. The mere contact of her skin with the cold plastic sent a shiver down a spine, releasing a sigh of satisfaction through her lips.

She took a sip, barely hearing Grace's speech in her back.

Tonight she was supposed to meet him in Brooklyn. It had been a week now. They hadn't avoided each other through those seven days but simply pretended that nothing had happened. Perhaps it was the problematic side of their secretive ways... If something turned bad, they had nobody to rely on this time.

She didn't even know why she had kissed him in the first place. It had never been a part of her fantasies, she hadn't planned any of this. And that was the worst, the most complicated aspect to deal with, because the urge had seemed to come from a place she didn't know anything about.

But she had enjoyed it; the heat of his lips, everything.

If she couldn't find the real reason why she had kissed him, at least she could recognize that she would probably always remember it.

"So what do you think?"

She swallowed hard before her friend's question, trying to remember the diatribe Grace had just gone through. Had she mentioned Will or it was only some trick of her own mind?

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come on! You could make an effort. I know that the two of you are a lot closer than what you want to let us think so be honest with me for once. Do you think that Will is seeing someone?"

"I seriously doubt that he would say something about his private life to me and not to you, Gracie."

She almost let a smile grow on her lips before the good reaction she had just adopted. It showed great control of her feelings, of her wonders. When she was able to make abstraction of her deepest worries, Karen could face any kind of situation. Odd invincibility...

"Then why would he be avoiding me? We haven't argued, nothing. And yet I can tell you that he is hiding things from me."

"Why don't you just ask him directly?"

"He won't answer, you know it."

"Then wait and you will see..."

Waiting... The word was still resounding in her head as she sat down at a table of the restaurant a few hours later.

She didn't like this verb. It was probably the closest synonymous to passivity which notion she simply couldn't stand. It was when you stopped that your life began to slip through your fingers and you lost control over it.

If some people didn't mind about this eventuality, she couldn't afford it.

"Good evening..."

It took her a lot of concentration not to gasp as Will sat down on the seat opposite hers, a soft smile on his lips. He looked relaxed, not at all embarrassed or uncomfortable when she had actually hesitated to come there in the first place.

From all the possibilities she had imagined, the idea that he could simply avoid the subject of their kiss hadn't crossed her mind at any moment.

And yet it resulted to be the one Will chose as he immediately directed their conversation towards light topics. She didn't insist, vaguely taken aback and nonetheless relieved.

Perhaps it was better like that, after all.

No mattered it left a bitter taste on her mind.

Against all expectations, Will's strategy worked out and the evening went by smoothly like any other one. The staff of the restaurant had opened all the windows _ probably succumbing to the warmth of the temperatures _ and the soft sound of the water caressing the ground somewhere below rocked her peacefully, taking away her worries.

She didn't kiss him this time as they left the restaurant and hailed for a cab. It wasn't raining either, the sky was clear and let its stars shine like a million diamonds over the city.

Madison Avenue appeared, a few passers-by enjoying the night peacefully. The taxi stopped, she tended a bill to the driver, as usual.

Everything seemed to have plunged back into a reassuring routine when all of a sudden Will grabbed her wrist _ forcing her to suspend her gesture of opening the door _ to make her look at him.

She did, instinctively.

This is when he captured her lips with his, as unexpectedly as she had done the week before with him.

_**Karen Walker came back home with shaking legs that night, her heart pounding loud as a thousand wonders were bumping into her head with an unbearable strength. **_

_**He had kissed her, then she had left. **_

_**If she had made a bet on the shapes the evening would adopt, she would have lost the game immediately.**_


	3. Four of a Kind

**3. Four of a kind**

If she closed her eyes, it all came back with a disturbing easiness from the softness of his lips to the way his hand had traveled up her arm firmly. She had let him do, all along.

That was the worst part.

She swallowed hard and looked down at her lap. The breeze was blowing on her dress, making it move like a wave of white cotton. She had turned on the air conditioning but for some reason she felt oppressed, something weighing on her chest.

It had nothing to do with a sudden dizziness but with regrets, deep ones.

"Did he say when he was planning to come back?"

She shook her head then shrugged.

"Probably next month, I don't know. He was busy so the call resulted rather short."

"Oh... I am sorry."

Jack's remark surprised her. Actually she didn't really mind if her husband had decided to stay longer in Shanghai. Somehow it sounded more like a relief than anything else after what had happened the day before between Will and her. She wouldn't have had the courage to face Stanley.

It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair.

"I am getting accustomed to his constant overseas travels, you know. I am fine with them. They are part of the deal."

"But still, what a way to make you succumb to an affair..."

Karen choked on her Martini. Feeling the heat run up her cheeks, she stood up immediately and headed to the other side of the room just so that her blushing passed unnoticed.

Someone had opened the French windows leading to the large terrace, letting the traffic noise invade the library, the too quiet Madison Avenue mansion that most of the time looked like nothing but a labyrinth deprived of life.

She had always hated it.

"You know that Stanley can trust me. I am not this kind of woman. I do have self-esteem."

"I only know what I see."

"And what do you see, exactly?"

She had sounded more offended than what she would have wanted but she hadn't appreciated his insinuation at all. She had principles even though the last events tended to prove the exact opposite.

"I see a woman who is desperately lonely."

"Oh, stop your bullshit, Will!"

"My name is Jack."

"Yeah well, whatever..."

The situation was getting worse. She was losing control of it little by little, stirring up a strong embarrassment she hadn't felt in a very long time; a few years or so.

She swept away her mistake with her hand then stepped out on the terrace. The night was particularly dark and the sky seemed so heavy that she almost had the feeling it could fall down on her at any moment. If only... At least she would get a good excuse to stop thinking.

"Karen, what is wrong with you? Is it because of Stan? Have you both argued again?"

"I don't see when we would have been able to do so since we have barely crossed each other twice the last month!"

A bitter laugh slid on her lips to accompany her sharp remark. She made a few steps forwards as Jack abandoned his seat inside to join her under the glimmering stars.

"Then why are you so frustrated? You have been like that all day long..."

"Like I force you to remain by my side if you think I am being annoying to you... Damn, go away if you can't stand me."

"You don't want to talk, right?"

She didn't answer and lit a cigarette instead. Nicotine had at least the credits to calm her down for a few seconds. It was still better than nothing. Besides, it was very effective when you wanted to prevent yourself from crying.

"I don't like leaving when you are in such a state but well... You know where to find me if you want to talk. You aren't alone, Karen."

She waited a couple of minutes before turning around and facing the library. Jack had gone away, probably bitter. He wasn't hurt though, no. He didn't have the right to. Besides he knew her too much.

It wasn't her fault if at times, she was harsher.

Ashamed, Karen looked down then grabbed a bottle of vodka she had opened earlier in the evening. She took a sip, felt the alcohol burn her throat but the truth was that as time was passing by, she was getting accustomed to it and the effects of the drink were weakening slowly.

_Can you come over here?_

It is only when she saw the little envelope disappear that she realized what she had just done. It hadn't taken five seconds. She was getting good at breaking what was left of her life into pieces.

_When?_

_Right now._

She didn't hesitate even if this time she was fully conscious of what she was doing. Anyway they had already gone too far, already signed for their demise.

_On my way..._

_**Behind the appearances, Karen Walker brought a lot of importance to every single one of her relationships. With the years she had learned that it was all she would ever be given and yet because it didn't necessarily last, it depended on nobody but her to keep them all alive. **_

_**She hadn't cheated on any of her husbands.**_

_**She hadn't betrayed any of her friends.**_

_**Until now...**_

_**She thought about Jack, about Grace, about Will. They all belonged to this odd four of a kind circle _ strong and unique friendship _ she couldn't reduce to pieces for a simple whim.**_

_**But yet she was about to do it.**_


	4. Bluffing

**4. Bluffing**

Caressed by the air conditioning the ribbons were floating in a multicolor wave of satin, softly against her fingers. By moment the contact lost in subtlety, sending shivers down her spine, causing a bright smile to light up her features. Until she noticed the reaction of her own body and looked down, hiding the red on her cheeks.

She was fine, shamefully enough.

"You are very quiet."

Grace's remark put an end to the ribbon game. Her hazel eyes landed on her friend. She shrugged.

"You look serene, though. Did Stanley call you last night?"

Her heart sped up its pace as a sentiment of panic spread over her mind, paralyzing her whole person. It had taken her a long time before being able to restrain the tears at the slightest allusion to her last choices.

She swallowed hard but didn't manage to smile.

"No, he didn't."

Perhaps if he had, nothing would have happened and there wouldn't have been any remorse at all. She sighed, trying to face the irony of life and its thousand suppositions that never made it to reality.

It made it even worse.

As if her embarrassment weren't enough, he passed the door at this exact moment; a light smile on his lips, wearing a Dolce & Gabbana suit, his tie loosened in a false neglected way.

He didn't land an eye on her. She looked down at her lap.

"There is this cute little restaurant at the corner, how about it?"

Grace nodded and grabbed her bag. She was genuinely happy. It hurt even more.

"Hello..."

"Will..."

Sat at her desk, she nodded at him and pushed by a sudden boldness plunged her hazel eyes into his brown ones. He made a step backwards.

"Are you available this evening? I have just received some papers that need your agreement, for Walker Inc."

It was odd how an usual situation could get new shades as soon as you got to learn more, some quiet details and for once his arrogance didn't seem so unbearable.

He was just scared, immensely alone.

"I will be at home around seven..."

"That's perfect. I will stop by after work."

"Fine."

"See you later, then."

Without saying a word she looked at him leave the office, with Grace.

She had seen him naked, caressed his flesh and planted kisses on every single inch of his skin. She had been his as well, shivering in his arms as her smiles had got lost against his lips.

She had been close to him, way too close maybe.

They hadn't talked that much, even afterward. The odd attraction that had pushed them in each other's arms had abruptly turned into embarrassment and he had left almost as quickly as he had passed the door a few hours earlier.

Wonders spreading over her mind, she hadn't been able to fall asleep and had tried to analyze her feelings instead, what having an affair finally tasted after all these years of hearing stories about a world she had never lived in.

Now that she had crossed the lines, she knew that people had always been lying. Infidelity had nothing to do with some sweet experiences. It was dark, oppressing, painful.

It was the exact opposite.

Vodka slid along her throat. She closed her eyes, held her breath. The office was too silent, she didn't like it. Even the traffic below in the street didn't seem able to come through the open window for once as if the whole city had decided to stop living, suddenly.

As her lungs began to claim for air, she finally released the pressure and started breathing again, oddly rocked by the near-state of suffocation. It made her feel dizzy; cheap getaway when everything broke into pieces.

"What happened to your ankle?"

As Jack jumped into the office, she turned around to face him, still surprised by his unplanned entrance. She had hoped for once that he wouldn't come, wouldn't stop by.

Being alone was necessary to keep on wondering about a couple of things.

"What are you talking about?"

Logically enough she looked down at her ankle only to notice a small stretch lost in blue shades.

"You have a bruise or what looks like a bruise."

The reminiscence of Will's lips on her ankle rushed back to her mind. She stood up immediately, hiding the hickey and the blush on her cheeks.

"I probably hit a coffee table. It is nothing, no big deal."

"You must have been rather intoxicated..."

"I am never drunk, not even tipsy. I am not an alcoholic!"

Feeling a pointless tension increasing, Jack swept away the discussion with a gesture of the hand before sitting up on Grace's desk, never bothering about damaging the sketches the interior designer had left previously there.

"I have two invitations for a new club in The Village tonight. Are you tempted?"

"I can't, honey. I have to see Will, some paper thing."

_**Karen Walker had always loved lying. From insignificant stories to bigger lies, the sensation of dizziness brought by the immoral act bewitched her strongly. **_

_**What could she say for her defense? This was a world she had grown up in, full of lies and manipulation, falsely controlled by men when actually thought and created by women. **_

_**But for the very first time, the wind had changed. After thirty-nine years of lies, doubts had begun to spread.**_

_**And bluffing wasn't so appealing anymore to Karen.**_


	5. Wild Card

**5. Wild card**

"A penny for your thoughts."

Will's voice got lost in the background as her father's substituted the original. He used to say that a lot, with a sparkling flame in his eyes and a warm grin on his lips as he slowly broke down her daydreams.

She missed him.

"Karen?"

Sat on an old armchair, she tightened her grip on the shawl she was holding and sighed peacefully before a smile appearing on her face. She felt fine but completely blank.

"Hmm..."

A light got turned on in a building opposite the street, revealing a luxurious apartment in the heights of Madison Avenue. She had always loved New York by night. The city appeared from a new angle, vaguely fragile; pure.

"What are you thinking about? You are very quiet, tonight."

"I don't know."

Her reply made him laugh. She heard the rustle of the sheets in the background and very soon felt his hands on her bare shoulders. They were soft, warm against her skin. His fingers slid along her neck. She closed her eyes, leaned her head backwards, allowing him implicitly to go on.

"How come you don't know about the thoughts you have in mind?"

"Perhaps it is better like that."

His lips found her shoulder blades, making her swallow hard.

"Do you think that life makes sense?"

Her unexpected question stopped him and all of a sudden Karen surprised herself missing her lover's hands on her. His absence was cold, too cold.

"What do you mean exactly?"

Her eyes captured his reflexion in the large window. She looked away immediately, feeling the heat rush up her cheeks.

A shrug accompanied her discomfort.

"Have you ever had the feeling that your existence didn't make sense at some point, that it was all messy if not pointless at all?"

"Have you?"

"More than once..."

The silence that followed her confession only managed to increase her discomfort. She stared at her feet in a protective way as if the bitterness of her voice would end up passing unnoticed if she did so.

She felt vulnerable all of a sudden and she didn't like it at all.

"Do you want to talk?"

"No."

Pressed by an arising tension, she abruptly stood up then headed to the other end of the room. She grabbed a scarf, folded it nervously.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Something hit her heart at this exact moment, a sort of latent pain that would have finally awoken in spite of her efforts to ignore it. Had she hurt him? For some reason, she couldn't stand the idea.

"I... I don't know."

What could she say? If she had answered by the affirmative, she would have sounded harsh and if she had used the negation instead, it would have been a desperate act of loneliness. She was trapped somewhere in between, with no references in what was a pure novelty in her life. She had no established rules for adultery. It was the first time she dared to cross the lines and only the second night they spent together.

He hadn't asked anything the night before.

"Have I offended you, said something I shouldn't have said? You know if you prefer to stop and all, I understand."

"It isn't you. It isn't your fault."

"I am not apologizing, just coming up with suggestions."

"Then stop them. It makes me nervous. I have never liked ultimatums."

"And I don't like making you sad."

Under other circumstances, she would have found his honesty extremely sweet, full of attention and moving. But at this exact moment, it only scared her and resumed it all by her heart race speeding up.

"Damn don't say that, Will. It isn't fair and you know it. Where are my cigarettes?"

"Here."

She grabbed the pack he tended her then lit a cigarette, barely restraining a sigh of satisfaction as nicotine made its way to her blood, the smoke wrapping her lungs of a blurry veil.

She was addicted to way too many things and knew it.

"I am on the pill."

If until then she had been the one feeling uncomfortable, Will's sudden paleness betrayed a deep embarrassment. He cleared his voice, dancing on his feet.

"Okay..."

The uncertainty of his voice tone didn't trouble her the slightest bit. On the contrary, an odd sensation of boldness began to spread over her. She took a deep breath then shrugged.

"So unless you don't want to, we don't need to use condoms."

_**Within a few words, Karen Walker had implicitly given a wild card to infidelity. She didn't regret it, didn't feel excited by her boldness either. Actually, it was all still blank in her head and her heart was icy.**_

_**Her eyes found his but she didn't say anything. **_

_**She thought about Stanley, about the last time they had talked. They had argued.**_

_**Awkwardly enough, she made her way to Will and slid her hand around his neck, caressing the skin softly. **_

_**They kissed.**_

_**It was wrong. She knew it but yet didn't care anymore. The situation was clear now and it was all she needed.**_

_**His fingers caressed her hand. He grabbed her cigarette, smoked it. **_

_**Closing her eyes, her lips made contact with his neck, going down his chest, he**__**er lover's body, as an oppressive question began to weigh on her mind.**_

_**What kind of deal had she just sealed?**_


	6. Two pairs

**6**. **Two pairs**

She didn't lack boldness but still owned a few principles that tended to define a stronger moral than what people would have thought in the first place and fidelity was one of them.

Her marriage to Stanley might not have been perfect, it wasn't a reason to plunge into the intricate nets of an affair. They hadn't even talked yet, hadn't alluded to the fact it might have been time to recognize that things weren't alright and that they had to react before it being too late.

Communication. After two failed marriages, Karen knew that it was the key to any relation success.

She hadn't even given it a try.

_Just put an end to it now._

She had left her Upper East Side mansion determined, almost relieved for the very first time in a long while. Will would understand, agree immediately with her and turn the page over what would remain as a silent mistake but his hand brushing her lower back had resulted enough to see all her resolutions fly away within a second.

She wouldn't come back alone that night.

"You have been daydreaming a lot, lately."

Her hazel eyes stopped on Grace who was walking by her side in the warmth of a July evening. Jack's last crush on a tango teacher had led them to head down to The Village to enjoy some neighborhood hoedown. Against her friends' expectations, she had agreed.

At least she wouldn't end up in Will's arms immediately.

"Can we even daydream by night? On a syntax point of view, it is impossible."

Her teasing remark made Grace smile but didn't discourage her either. On the contrary, the red-head crossed her arms against her chest and slowed down her pace to get some distance with the boys.

"Is everything alright? You look troubled at times, and stressed."

She instinctively opened her mouth to reply but discarded any light, humorous remark. For some reason, she had grown tired of them that night.

"Aren't we all at some point?"

"Hmm... If you say so. Though you know that if you need to speak, I am here."

Her throat tightened under the guilt and because if she had replied, her voice would have sounded weak, she simply rolled her eyes pretending to be exasperated by Grace's nice remark. It worked, as usual.

To avoid any other uncomfortable discussion, Karen sped up her pace and reached Jack with an overplayed joy that nonetheless passed unnoticed for her reactions being excessive most of the time anyway.

They turned at the corner of a small, dark street only to get blinded by a thousand little colored lamps and tinsels installed on a private square. Tables surrounded a homemade bar as the rest of the place had been left to an improvised dance floor where a few couples were spinning around, following the rhythm of an old waltz.

As usual in those moments, Jack disappeared as soon as he saw the lust of his dreams, leaving his three friends behind in the most utterly indifference.

Will looked at her. She held his gaze for a couple of seconds.

She loved the sensation his kisses left on her skin, the warmth of his lips on her neck; his sighs as she succumbed to his thrusts.

She shivered, swallowed hard.

"Let's get a table. Wilma, I am thirsty."

She couldn't help it. As soon as her thoughts focused on any sexual connotation regarding to Will, she felt the urge to be harsh and humiliating with him; as if she would find relief and accepted apologies for what they were doing.

Grace sat at a table. She joined her, lit a cigarette and nonchalantly began to observe the couples who were dancing. A tango was on and Jack's crush was now evolving in the middle of the amateurs with the self-confidence typical of professionals.

"He is a rather good dancer."

She nodded at Grace's comment then squinted her eyes.

"He should have chosen the girl with the pink skirt, though. The combination would have been a lot better."

Grace laughed at the remark, rather taken aback by her friend's affirmation.

"They are exactly alike. Why do you say that, because her skirt matches his shirt better?"

Will arrived with three pints of beer. She silently thanked him and took a sip before shaking her head at Grace.

"Their dance personalities are very close. This is what makes the charm of tango, the fusion between the dancers."

Her eyes landed on Will's. He had sat next to Grace to keep on with this ridiculous distance supposed to protect them from any suspicion. She usually was the one who paid attention to this kind of details, not him. His move surprised her and she took another sip.

The tango came to an end and very soon Jack arrived with the professional dancer by his side, all smile.

"So this is Juan. Juan, this is Will, Grace and Karen."

The first notes of another tango stifled their conversation and Juan who had previously sat down next to Karen, stood up offering her his hand.

"Would you like to dance?"

She almost said no, pushed by this fake instinct she had learned to make hers for the last two decades but as her eyes landed back on Will, a surge of boldness took possession of her and she nodded at Juan before joining him on the dance floor, ignoring her friends' surprise. She never really danced with them, mostly stayed clutched to the bar.

But she hadn't forgotten anything and as soon as her ankles brushed Juan's, she abandoned herself to the music.

_**For most people, Karen Walker was a complete mystery. Her allusions to her past were rare if not nonexistent at all, flirting with absurdity when she advanced some points and the result was that nobody knew if she wasn't actually kidding. **_

_**But it was just her own way to preserve everything, her own sanctuary; and some injuries she wished they could disappear. **_

_**Juan was leading the dance and she simply followed, dominated by the masculine presence as tango required. **_

_**Perhaps that was the reason why she had fallen in love with the Argentinian dance. It seemed so close to what she was living. **_

_**She span around. Her eyes crossed Will's. He was staring at her intently, obviously surprised by the confidence of her steps. **_

_**And all of a sudden she felt like rushing to him, telling him everything; the loss of her father, their precipitated departure from Mississippi in the middle of the night and the sun of Buenos Aires when she had opened her eyes long hours later. **_

_**But then Stanley appeared, blurry at first in her mind before finally turning so bright that it almost blinded her. She swallowed hard and kept on dancing, trying to forget her torn situation.**_

_**Her marriage to Stanley; her love affair with Will.**_

**_Two impossible pairs to deal with._**


	7. To Call

**7. To call**

If she hadn't been walking through the streets of Manhattan, she would have taken her shoes off immediately and headed back home barefoot, feeling the warm ground under her skin but the city responded to rules and principles, an image she was supposed to give and that didn't rime with some sort of hippie habits she might have developed at some point.

Bearing the pain caused by high heels was one of them, just an insignificant detail in an ocean of sagely respected conventions.

Letting herself literally fall on the bed, she finally got rid of her stilettos and sighed of relief. Her feet were burning, her ankles boiling. But in spite of the tough sensation, Karen hadn't stopped smiling.

For the very first time in a long while, she felt alive and the pain was worth it.

"Perhaps you should invest in tango shoes, next time."

Will shut down his cell phone, entered the room and closed the door behind him. Slowly but never breaking eye-contact with her, he made his way to the bed then sat down by her side. The smile on his lips was peaceful, and warm.

"I do have several pairs. I just didn't think that I would dance tonight."

Her hand approached her ankles but she couldn't help making a face as she began to rub them. She nonetheless restrained a moan and swallowed hard.

"Is it sprained?"

The worry in his voice was sweet and made her laugh. She shook her head, lie down on the bed.

"No, they just need to rest. Dancing in high heels is the stupidest thing that I could do so now I have to pay for it. No big deal..."

She looked how he took his own shoes off, almost awkwardly as if he weren't sure of what should be his next move. She didn't like observing their gestures, the ones they adopted in the intimacy of some bedroom, mainly because it never sent back a positive image and only left a bitter taste on her mind, an oppressing one.

All of a sudden his brown gaze found hers and gladly enough to put an end to her dark wonders, she sat up on the mattress before straddling him, passing her arms around his neck.

Nobody had said anything as he had announced that he would accompany her back home. Grace had vaguely nodded then called it a night while Jack had simply waved goodbye and closed the door of his own flat.

They didn't even need to lie now. It all passed unnoticed.

Her lips brushed his as his hands tightened their grip on her lower back. She needed to make the first step when she was with him; to tell him where, when, how. Without this control, she would have felt even more lost somehow.

Her tongue found his and she deepened the kiss, slowly, before tracing a path to his neck through the warmth of her lips on his flesh. His fingers pressed her spine, asking implicitly for a bolder move, a frank contact with her own skin without her clothes being an obstacle to their senses.

"Where did you learn to dance?"

Her kiss on his should blade got suspended and for a couple of seconds she remained still, looking blankly at his chin. The silence in the room contrasted with the messy cacophony that reigned in her head, lies getting mixed with a few memories.

Karen cleared her voice and chose honesty.

"I lived in Buenos Aires for eight years. When my father passed away, we moved to Argentina because my mother had those dreams about a pottery workshop. It didn't work out so we went back to the USA without a single penny and basically traveled through the whole country, getting money from the 'lovely' men who ended up in her bed, for the luckiest ones, that is."

The reproach in her voice sounded louder than what she had wanted in the first place and it hurt, a lot. Swallowing hard, she swept it all with her hand as if she had turned the page over it a long time ago and it couldn't affect her anymore when it was the exact opposite.

Even after all these years, she still felt like crying.

"Have you ever gone back there?"

Will's question surprised her. She had expected another kind of reaction from him, something closer to some banality. Instead he had gone straight to a deeper meaning.

"No and I won't."

"Why?"

"Too many memories..."

In a fluid movement she pulled off her dress, putting an implicit end to the conversation and revealing thus the lace of her white underwear. It had always been easier for her to appear naked in front of men than confessing them the slightest detail about herself.

She unhooked her bra, took it off slowly while getting her eyes locked with his, mischievously.

Her hands made contact with his. She put them on her breasts, allowing him access to her body.

As his lips brushed her throat, she leaned her head backwards and sighed, closing her eyes tightly; succumbing to Will's caresses.

_**Karen Walker had never loved talking. It was a dangerous task, a tough one that could reveal itself irreversible at times. At least silence never brought any mistake, any pain or regret. **_

_**Will's grabbed her thighs and lie her down on the bed, covering her with his own body as he traced a path of kisses down her chest. **_

_**If there was one thing she had learned through the years, it was that words were hard to use, too dangerous even when you thought you were controlling them.**_

_**That was why she always remained quiet and only gave a few hints, from time to time, when the pressure of silence was too strong.**_

_**Then she made a call and revealed some cards, always through half words, like in the dark.**_


	8. Three of a Kind

**8. Three of a kind**

The icy water made contact with her face and calmed down her heart pace slowly, little by little as the seconds passed by. Feeling her dizziness fading away, she opened her eyes and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her complexion was so pale than the skin had almost turned blue, contrasting thus with the red shades of blood that had rushed to her eyes. She cast a glance at the door that was unable to lock properly.

If someone happened to come in, the mere vision of her face would result enough to stir up deep, vital worries.

With an expert gesture she reapplied makeup and hid behind dark sunglasses what makeup couldn't cover as efficiently.

The sun oppressed her as she made her way back outside on the terrace of the restaurant. The temperatures had risen a few degrees more, surprising everyone when storms usually invaded New York City at this time of the year.

This summer was hot, suffocating.

Quietly enough she sat back at her seat and tried to concentrate on the passers-by. Her heart was still pounding loud against her chest. She didn't like it.

"Are you ready for a sex friend?"

The question got her blood icy and with a barely restrained terror on her face, she stared at Grace in disbelief. The red-head waved the magazine she was holding, a smile on her serene face.

"There is a quiz. Would you like to take it?"

"Shouldn't we order instead? We are going to be late. Unless you have decided to close the office for the rest of the day..."

The tone of reproach in her voice didn't make it to her friend who simply shrugged, giggling.

"What is happening? You are usually the one who pushes me to take those stupid tests."

"I am not in the mood, sorry."

"Oh come on. Let's have a girl talk. Have you ever had a sex friend?"

Grace's eyes were sparkling of curiosity, a mischievous smile on her lips. She raised her eyebrows to accompany her question, waiting eagerly for an answer she obviously hoped would be positive.

"I am married, honey."

"But you haven't had been married your whole life."

"I have rarely been single and even without a wedding band on my finger, I don't cheat on my partner."

"So you never had sex with a friend, just like that?"

Growing in discomfort, Karen began to look around for the waiter. She was thirsty and needed a drink, some strong alcohol.

"I told you that I wasn't in the mood for this kind of things."

"What does it change if you have already had a fuck friend?"

_So many things, Gracie..._

"And why are you all of a sudden so interested in my private life? I am married to Stanley, end of the conversation. Now damn, where is this bloody waiter? I need a Martini!"

"You might go and call me crazy but for some reason, I can picture you out choosing Will as your sex friend. I know that you are closer to Jack but it doesn't make it to me. Maybe it is the way you always tease each other, I don't know..."

Grace had said that nonchalantly, vaguely leaned backwards on her seat. She looked too relaxed not to be lying. Obviously if her thoughts had been true, she wouldn't have taken the idea so well, on the contrary.

"This is absurd. Will is gay, what kind of sexual promiscuity can I expect from him?"

He had sent her a text message the night before to cancel his visit. He hadn't even called. As much as she wanted to pretend the exact opposite, his attitude had hurt and still did, somehow.

She swallowed hard and focused on the menu of the restaurant.

"He is attracted to you. Not that I like it but it is true."

"Could you please leave me alone with that? I have one husband at home _ or so _ and it is enough like that."

"How is Stan by the way? Coming back home soon?"

"Not that I know of..."

"So you are available this weekend, aren't you?"

She fixed the lobster dish for a few seconds of hesitation before looking into her friend's eyes, finally shrugging.

"Yeah... I mean I suppose. Unless I have a last-minute appointment, which can be highly probable though. Why are you asking me that?"

"Well, you know that I leave tomorrow for Maine to start working on a beach house for this new client. He called me this morning and suggested I could invite some friends over the weekend since I will be alone out there for a couple of weeks. Jack is obviously going to turn down my invitation _ you know how he is when he has a new crush to date _ but I thought that you might be interested. You could come along with Will, like on Friday or something and stay there for the weekend. Besides you would give me the last emails and notices from eventual clients. What do you think?"

_**If she had closed her eyes at this exact moment, Karen Walker would have turned down her friend's invitation, pretending to have forgotten an important appointment as the vivid image of her lover would have imposed itself in her mind.**_

_**She couldn't have dreamed of anything better than Grace's departure to fully and freely enjoy whatever was going on between Will and her. **_

_**But the sun landed on her hand, warming up the platinum of her wedding band. **_

_**By a nod, she sealed her weekend in Maine. **_

_**Sometimes it required a third person to overcome an uncontrollable situation.**_

_**Some sort of 'three of a kind' not to lose the battle.**_


	9. Blind Stud

**9. Blind stud**

Even late, she didn't run. There was a boldness in resisting conventions that she had always enjoyed. Oddly enough the incongruous behavior brought respect and people began to fear her by then, remaining silent about her scandalous attitude.

It might have been a controversial strategy but it had worked more than once on determining situations.

As slowly as she could, she jumped the steps and made her way through the first class corridor. The departure signal pierced the air as the doors got closed in her back. While Will had run all the way up the platform, she had taken her time, imposing her own schedule through the slow pace of her stilettos on the ground.

She passed a few cabins _ still carrying awkwardly her suitcase _ and finally found the one she had booked the day before. She came in, observed surprised the generous size of the place then rolled her eyes at Will who was sat down on a couch drinking down a glass of water.

"Why did you run? The train wasn't going to leave without us. We were on the platform! And traveling first class..."

She closed the door of the cabin and made her way to the couch opposite Will's. If she hadn't hidden her disappointment when learning that all the flights for Maine were booked as well as private jets and they would have to go there by train, Karen had to recognize that it might not have been a bad chance. The first class was luxury, with this old elegance of the beginning of the century. It reminded her of The Orient Express when she had traveled from Paris to Venice once with Stanley.

"Do you want to have dinner at the restaurant tonight or get it over here?"

"I don't really mind..."

"Then let's go for the restaurant. It might be a big cabin for a train but still, we will be better at a real table."

She looked down, trying to hide her disappointment. He hadn't called her for the whole week, even after Grace's departure for Maine and succumbing to a wave of doubts, she had remained quiet as well. For the first time in quite a while they happened to be alone, together, and yet he chose a public place instead.

She swallowed hard then stood up.

"Where do you go?"

"I am going to have a shower, and change my outfit for dinner."

He didn't seem to be angry with her, though, in spite of his distance. The meal went smoothly, the conversation fluid enough to probably let people believe that this wasn't an affair but a real love story.

She would have lied if she had said that she didn't mind at all about it.

They had a last drink at the bar before heading back to their cabin. When the train arrived the next day, they would put everything into parenthesis and start pretending again as the odd routine had ended up imposing itself through the beginning of the summer.

She was glad they could let their guard go down for once, if only for a night.

"Do you mind if I go to the bathroom? I need to, I... I have to take off my contacts."

The allusion to one of her day-to-day gestures made her blush. They had never spent an entire night together, only shared a few hours before going separate ways. The perspectives were new and vaguely intimidating. From the routine of a sexual affair, they were heading to the rituals of an official relationship.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, the bed had been made and took most of the place of the cabin. Will was sat on it, reading The New York Times. She made a step towards him, kind of embarrassed. He stoop up immediately and disappeared in the bathroom, turning the shower on a few seconds later.

She was slowly falling asleep, rocked by the train, as the door of the bathroom got opened. He had undressed, wearing only some gray boxers. She took her time to observe him, the shapes of his body. She had missed him.

"At what time do we arrive tomorrow?"

"Around noon... Grace won't be at the station but told me we could rent a car or simply get cab. The house isn't far from the train station, apparently."

He settled down in bed by her side, sighed.

"Are you tired?"

She didn't get excited but relieved as she felt his hand caress her stomach and he shook his head, replying by the negative to her question.

She rolled on her side, locking her eyes with his before making vanish the few inches left between their faces. His lips were soft, and warm. But it was only when she felt his tight grip on her lower back that she let go of everything and frankly smiled in his mouth, letting him get on top of her.

She didn't wake up in his arms the next morning but next to him, a chaste distance separating them. The landscape had changed as she cast a glance through the large window. New York was far behind, now. Carefully enough she made her way out of the bed and grabbed the blouse he was wearing the day before, for their dinner, then went to the bathroom.

She had put on one of her contact lenses and was on her way to insert the other one when the train slowed down without any warning. She grabbed the edge of the counter instinctively but her finger dropped the contact that ended up in the depths of the sink. Biting the inside of her mouth to restrain a scream of frustration, Karen finally sighed.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom with her glasses on, resigned.

"What happened in there? I thought you had fallen asleep under the shower."

She frowned, made a face.

"I lost one of my contact lenses down the sink..."

As a young teenager, she had fantasized about the infamous 'morning after', elaborating a whole series of romantic, passionate conversations on the pillow. The one she was having now was probably the most random one she could have feared to ever share.

"You don't have extra contacts?"

"No, I forgot them."

Looking down to hide her glasses behind her hair, she made her way to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. She could make his legs out through the sheets, a few inches away from her hand.

"Do you always wear men clothes in the morning?"

Her eyes wander from the sheets to the blouse she had put on, vaguely buttoned up. His remark made her smile until his hand slowly traveled up her naked thigh, passing under the piece of clothing. Then she swallowed hard and finally stared at him.

She let him undress her, slowly.

_**If there was a point Karen Walker always insisted on was the absence of her lovers by her side the next morning. She had come up with the unusual decision after a long series of personal disappointments, failed dreams of a conception of love that didn't seem to rime with reality. So at least alone in her bed, she still could play the scenario over and over in her head.**_

_**Because nobody could lie in the morning. Nobody could fake.**_

_**You put all your cards on the table and the blind stud was there, a few inches away from you.**_


	10. Crippling the Deck

**10. Crippling the deck**

The minute her foot made contact with the platform and she stepped off the train, it began to rain. It had nothing to do with the storms of New York, the sudden strength of electricity in the air. This one was soft, relaxing like a wave of caresses. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the sky and let the drops slide along her cheeks, then smiled.

The journey in taxi barely lasted ten minutes. The main street of the seaside village had been deserted as the rain had started to pour and very soon they reached their destination, avoiding the typical traffic of people heading to the pier, looking desperately a place to park all around as it always happened in the summer.

Grace wasn't there but the door wasn't locked as she had previously said to Will when calling him a few minutes before. She had run to the nearest town to get some groceries which gave them enough time to unpack, to take a shower after their long train journey.

The house was very modern; large rooms overlooking the ocean, a succession of French windows that allowed the sun to light up the wooden walls and floor in a warm motion. The furniture clearly belonged to the 70's in this vintage way that so many yuppies were dying for desperately.

They climbed the steps to the first floor before entering their respective bedrooms. Grace had chosen the master one installed in the attic, leaving those two _ vaguely smaller _ available for whoever would come for a few days.

With a barely contained delight, she abandoned her suitcase near the king-size bed and made her way to the bathroom only to realize that she would have to share it with Will for it having a door that gave directly on his bedroom, just like hers. It might not have been a sign but she still interpreted it as a nice excuse to get closer to him.

She came back to her bedroom, opened the French window and stepped out on the terrace facing the ocean. The rumors of the waves slowly rocked her. She took a deep breath to fill her lungs with the scent of the sea then smiled, delighted.

"What are you doing outside? It is raining."

"And so what? I like it."

A shiver ran down her spine as she felt his hands brush her waist and his lips made contact with her neck. His breath was hot against her flesh, contrasting with the cool air.

"Are you sure that you don't want to come back in with me?"

His obvious suggestion made her laugh lightly. She turned around, finding herself in his arms.

"What if Gracie arrives? I don't want her to walk in on us."

"Neither do I."

"So we shouldn't try anything, at least not now."

"Indeed..."

But his lips caressed her jaw, going up slowly to her mouth as his fingers began to play with the fabric of her dress in a mischievous way. She let him do, let him carry her back inside to the bathroom where he slowly undressed her before running a shower.

Their gestures were never abrupt, never bare. As much as they were going through a purely sexual affair, sensuality constantly led their acts as if they just couldn't break the limits and see in each other a mere meaning to reach paroxysm. There was something more, a sort of irremediable respect.

Grace arrived an hour later, happy to finally have some company after a whole week of lonely work wonders. As the rain hadn't stopped, they remained inside and spent the afternoon talking. But at this game, Karen knew perfectly that she would never win. She didn't have her friends' chemistry, as much as she would try, and very soon she excused herself before going out on the terrace finding in her urge to smoke a cigarette the right excuse to disappear.

Around 7pm Grace went out to meet her client who had decided to stay over at a friend's house for the season until the works at his own house came to an end.

As an oppressing silence suddenly took over the living-room, Will headed to the kitchen area and grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring some in two glasses. Leaned against a French window Karen observed him doing so. She had remained very quiet for quite a while, now. Wonders had invaded her mind and were bumping now into each other with a dizzy vitality.

"Why do you sleep with me and not with Grace? Why do you talk to her so much and not to me?"

Her voice had never sounded so uncertain but her questions still surprised him enough to get him stop halfway to her, glasses of wine in hand.

She hadn't really meant to allude to their affair. The words had come out by themselves and she hadn't had enough time to restrain them. So she shook her head, apologizing.

"I am not physically attracted to her but to you. I don't... Control that."

"But you are mentally attracted to her and not to me, is that right? Have we stopped talking because you finally got what you actually wanted from me?"

_**No mattered what Will would answer, she knew that she would still end up sleeping with him that night when the lights had been turned off and the house had been plunged in the dark. Nothing seemed to be able to stop them now, nobody. The situation might have been delicate that it didn't change anything. She wanted him, at any price. Even though it ruined everything.**_

_**The worst of all was that she had never felt so powerful in her whole life, as if she had the right hand and couldn't but win at the end. **_

_**Karen Walker was too strong now and nobody would ever be able to catch her up back. **_

_**It couldn't turn bad.**_


	11. Calling the Clock

**11. Calling the clock**

The pale light of the day woke her up the next morning. The sun wasn't shining and the sky was still carrying on the shades of the rain that had accompanied their arrival to the seaside village. Rolling on her side, she remained long minutes in bed her eyes fixed on the sand that the waves slowly recovered in a slow, regular motion.

Her hand grabbed the sheets and tightened its grip on them as a cool breeze came to caress her skin. She had let the French windows open, the smell of the ocean invading the bedroom as the seagulls had rocked her to sleep once she had headed back to her own bed in the first hours of the morning.

They had made love twice. It might have been seen as a random fact for most of people but the truth was that it hadn't happened for a very long while in Karen's life and even a few hours later, she still felt light, vaguely tipsy as if she had abused of wine.

She finally got up, put on a shawl over her negligee and headed downstairs in search of another awoken soul. The house was still very quiet though as if the night hadn't abdicated to the daylight yet and tried desperately to live a longer reign. Making it to the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of orange juice then stepped outside on the terrace leading to the beach. The place was still rather empty, except for the presence of some morning joggers who probably took advantage of the early hours to enjoy the immensity spreading under their feet.

"Good morning."

Taken by surprise, Karen turned around immediately and came to face a smiling Grace who had sat on a deck chair in the corner of the terrace, mug of coffee in hand.

"God, you scared me to death!"

"Sorry... Did you sleep well? Personally, I don't. I miss New York's murmurs by night. It is too peaceful here."

"Actually I did. I guess I was rather tired, anyway."

"The train journey?"

Karen nodded and tightened her grip on the shawl. She felt embarrassed, and dizzy. Hesitating before finally making a step forward, she sat down on the deck chair still available by Grace's side and contemplated the ocean in silence.

Perhaps she was in need of more hours of sleep. Her body felt like cotton, all weak. Her fingers brushed her lips still swollen by Will's kisses. She swallowed hard, frowned.

"So how are things going in New York? Anything new?"

"Emma Bernstein called back for the design of her new bathroom and she..."

"I didn't mean at work but you know, life in general. Is Jack still obsessed with his tango teacher? Is Will dating someone? How are things going between you and Stan?"

Subconsciously enough Grace had climbed a scale through her questions until reaching one of the worst, little by little like some old Chinese torture.

The knife caressed the skin, it plunged in it and finally turned around to spread an unbearable pain all over the body.

"Jack has started taking tango lessons, sure he is going to be the next Luis Milonguita Lemos."

"Who?"

Karen swept away the question with a gesture of the hand, shrugging.

"A famous tango dancer. As for Will, well... Perhaps you should ask him directly. We aren't the worst enemies but let's face it, this is not something he would share with me."

She could barely believe that she had dared to say such a lie without the mere trouble. It had sounded true, and fair. She bit the inside of her mouth not to moan in despair.

"And Stanley?"

"What 'and Stanley'?"

"I don't know. Before you used to talk about him, about your arguments and making peace. Now you don't anymore, not even the slightest allusion to your marriage so I am wondering if everything goes well. Why you didn't go to Shanghai with him when you used to follow many of his business trips."

All of a sudden Karen felt trapped, suffocating in spite of the immense beach surrounding her. She took a deep breath in order to calm her fast heartbeats. She felt like crying.

"Well there isn't a lot to say, maybe."

She looked at the floor immediately, trying to escape from her friend's gaze; her arms wrapped around her knees in a protective way. The words hadn't slid on her lips but burnt them through a bittersweet whisper, almost inaudible.

"It is only a tough patch, some couple crisis."

"What do you know about it? You aren't married!"

The harshness of her tone of voice made Grace jump, surprised, as her smile froze on her lips. She had only tried to be nice, comprehensive.

"What happened?"

"You see, that is the problem, Gracie. Nothing happened, ever. Absolutely nothing."

Her laugh attempt didn't make it to the surface and got absorbed in a plain wave of regrets.

_**If Karen Walker had never liked those intimate conversations, her opinion had only got worse as her affair had developed. **_

_**It seemed to rub it in, every time. **_

_**Why did people feel the urge to confess themselves, to find a shoulder to cry on? It made them weak, vulnerable and not so touching. **_

_**She had never initialized any of these talks that only took her aback. There wasn't enough time to make up stories by then, to invent a few lies that would satisfy your interlocutor and leave you in peace, untouchable. **_

_**And what if she made a mistake, an irreversible one? What if she mentioned Will or alluded to an appointment, some meeting when she didn't have any alibi, on the contrary? **_

_**She had to stop talking. **_

_**Then she wouldn't lack time to think, to create a whole networks of believable stories and she would end up satisfied for having the whole control of a fictive reality. **_

_**Will stepped out on the terrace, a mug of coffee in hand. He didn't hesitate and sat next to Grace.**_


	12. Forced Move

**12. Forced-move**

As the plane landed, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the arm of the seat. For once she didn't mind how people would eventually interpret her sudden gesture, if they would come to think that she might be one of those who were afraid of flying. She simply swallowed back the weight of incomprehensible tears then bit the inside of her mouth.

She remained silent all along the cab journey, dragging down Will's light mood as soon as her absence of reply to his questions got him tired of trying.

It made her feel bad.

The boutiques of Madison Avenue appeared and very soon they found themselves in front of her building. The doorman came to help immediately, taking charge of her suitcase. With a brief motion of the head, she indicated him to go back into the lobby as she paid the fair for the taxi. Will hadn't moved and was still sat on one of the backseats except that now, he was the one pretending to ignore the other, falsely observing the passers-by on the other side of the avenue.

She didn't say anything, simply turned on her heels before disappearing behind the doors of the Upper East Side building.

"How did your weekend go, Mrs. Walker?"

"Perfect, Ernie."

The doors of the elevator opened and the employee went back to his initial location on the sidewalk, leaving her alone in the large cabin. She pressed the last button then sat down on the couch that had been installed as a sign of exceptional luxury.

She didn't like it, had never seen the point to have a couch in an elevator. It took over way too much space and sounded ridiculous for a ride that barely lasted more than a few seconds. But for once she gladly sat on it and leaned her head backwards, her eyes closed.

The weekend had been perfect. They hadn't argued. It had gone smoothly.

_Too smoothly, let's face it._

And against her own expectations, the end of their stay in Maine by Grace's side turned to be too abrupt to even be tolerated.

There hadn't been any train ride, any other night spent in his arms. Instead they had got a flight and within a couple of hours had landed in New York without having shared the slightest moment of intimacy.

When would it happen again? Jack would go back into their lives and they would all go back to their old routine. There wouldn't be any other night anymore and she didn't like that.

She finally arrived at the penthouse only to remember, as she opened the door and faced the darkness of the corridor, that her staff was on vacations. They had left the day before, which meant she would have to deal with the whole place by herself for the next three weeks.

Sighing, she turned the lights on and closed the door behind, grabbing the mails that had been accumulating on the table and heading then directly to her bedroom in order to unpack.

As she stepped into the room, Karen shivered. It was cold, there. Automatically she thought about Maine and the beach house, how the sun always seemed to warm up the rooms even when the rain was pouring. The penthouse was its antithesis. The temperatures could have reached a hundred that she would have still been freezing inside.

Once all her clothes got discarded haphazardly on her bed, she headed to the bathroom and ran the water in the tub. Perhaps if she relaxed, she would be able to deal with whatever was passing through her heart.

Scanning the mail, her eyes suddenly stopped on a UPS envelop she hadn't noticed until now. Discarding the rest, she opened it but her attention got caught by the tub as the water almost reached the edge. She stopped it, took off her clothes, stepped into the bath and finally settled on reading the letter.

Long after she still regretted having opened the envelop. The words she had read a thousand times were dancing in her head, making her feel dizzy and nauseous.

Guilt, shame, embarrassment. A whole series of oppressing feelings was weighing on her heart, devouring her conscious as Stanley's handwriting remained like engraved in her mind.

She had been having sex with another man when her own husband had offered her his most sincere apologies. He had made the first step, finally. But all she had managed to do had been to cheat on him.

And enjoy it.

_Please Karen, let's give it another chance._

_**For Karen Walker, an easy life wasn't worth it. If you didn't have to fight for it, in your own way, then you weren't fully experiencing it. Perhaps it was just her and this furious urge to be constantly active found an explanation in her unusual first years but there she had turned, completely obsessed with the idea of battle to taste victory. **_

_**Though for the very first time that night, as she read her husband's letter over and over, she wished for nothing but rest, any kind of break from the constant fighting. She was tired, had lost hope and energy.**_

_**Perhaps she should have stayed passive, clutched to her marriage as if it had been the only reference required. **_

_**Perhaps she shouldn't have looked for a job. After all she hadn't financially needed it. **_

_**Perhaps for once, she should have ignored her avidity for always getting more and more. **_

_**This way around, there wouldn't have been any UPS letter, any apologies or desperate request for a new chance from Stan. **_

_**No torn feelings, no stupid excuses. **_

_**No guilt. **_

_**No lust for playing different tables at the same time, with the risk to get away from the main one before returning to it forcefully.**_


	13. Final Betting

**13. Final Betting**

The vapors of alcohol would make it easier, at least for her. The words would slide on her lips and come up by themselves as if she wouldn't be the one controlling them; as if she wouldn't be able to feel guilty afterward.

The sangria wasn't strong enough to carry her somewhere else, far in the dizziness of another universe. So she began to drink beer instead, keeping an eye on the tango dancers. A woman in her thirties moved with fluidity, following her partner's movements with sensuality. The result was bewitching.

"Would you like to dance, Karen?"

Jack's seductive tango instructor bent over the table then winced at her playfully. She let a laugh escape, leaned her head backwards for a few seconds before nodding.

"Okay but not for too long. I have to go back home and pack. Since I leave tomorrow morning."

The end of her sentence had slowly plunged into an non-assumed revelation and she looked down immediately, avoiding Will's gaze. They hadn't seen each other since they had come back from Maine, not intimately. Every night she had been tempted to send him a text message but had never convinced herself to do so. He hadn't called either, hadn't stopped by. Had they broken up? She wouldn't have been able to say though it had helped her to take what looked like now as a sage decision.

"Where are you going to, Karebear?"

"Shanghai... I will stay there for two weeks, with Stan. We... We haven't seen each other for quite a while, now."

"Oh, sure... Don't forget to bring me back something!"

Jack settled further in his seat and seemed to turn the page as fast as he had asked about it all. How come things were so easy for some people? Her eyes timidly looked at Will. He was concentrated on the dancers moving on the improvised floor.

Even when she had headed out the agency with the flight tickets in hand, Karen hadn't felt relieved, as she had hoped though. The weight on her chest had kept on oppressing her heart and she had spent the next hours swallowing hard, trying to restrain violent cries.

She wasn't fine.

"Do you need someone to drive you to the airport?"

His question surprised her and she remained quiet for long seconds, desperately analyzing his words, the reason why he had said that. She shrugged, bit her lower lip.

"Eventually, yes. My plane takes off at 11am."

"I can be your driver if you want to."

And so they would happen to be alone, to face each other in a last conversation supposed to settle it all. She swallowed hard, locked her eyes into his brown ones and swept away the little voice in her head who was yelling at her to go away.

"You can come at 7.30am, to avoid the traffic."

She knew that she should have declined, said no to his offer but she couldn't help it and who cared anyway? It was just one thing more she would end up regretting.

…

Will arrived perfectly on time the next morning. She had put her sunglasses on, to hide the latent insomnia that her last night in Manhattan had brought. She was exhausted, felt lost. Hopefully as soon as the plane took off, things would go back to normal and she would stop wondering about a thousand endless things.

Smiling at him, she sat on the passenger seat while he took charge of her suitcases. Her heart was beating fast, way too fast. He started the engine then headed towards the airport.

The radio was playing an old tune, one of those you wouldn't have been able to name and that yet was unforgettable, for whatever reason. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes riveted on the road. Why did none of them actually talk? She had played the scenario over and over in her head, expecting the ultimate conversation that would make the situation clear enough so that she left without feeling bad, guilty. But Will remained quiet and she was unable to properly speak.

They parked at JFK and headed inside the terminal, avoiding each other's gaze. Their vague attempt to clear the situation seemed to have failed.

"Send me a text message when you arrive, just to tell us that everything went alright."

She nodded, desperately looking at the ground. She was missing her opportunity, probably the very last one they would ever be given; just because she lacked the courage to face it all, to assume her feelings.

"I will."

"Fine. Safe your journey and have a nice flight."

He disappeared from her sight. She passed the doors of the custom and the world seemed to take its distance with her, just like that, within a couple of seconds.

Very slowly she headed to a leather couch, sat down on it and ordered a Martini as the hostess came to offer her a drink.

Something had just happened, something she hadn't been prepared to deal with. An odd lightness had suddenly invaded her body in a protective attempt, only getting her locked into a dark, cold sphere. Time finally carried her away and before she knew it, she had fasten her seat belt as the plane was leaving.

_**If Karen Walker liked playing, she dedicated a very peculiar attention to the final betting. Within a second everyone revealed the cards, the whole strategy and it was time to see if bluffing had been effective. **_

_**Led by her strong self-confidence, she put her life at high risk by then, sometimes forgetting that she might not have been careful enough; that someone else might have been dealing since the very beginning with a better hand. **_

_**She closed her eyes as the plane took off, convincing herself that she had made the right choice; completely unaware of Will tearing in pieces, at this exact moment, a couple of flight tickets for Buenos Aires then getting rid of his fantasy with the typical coldness of failures.**_

_**Sometimes we all had to pay for our dreams.**_


	14. The Winner Is

**14. The Winner Is**

The mist was slowly invading Manhattan, sliding along the buildings and swallowing the last souls that were still walking on the streets. The shades of light were dark, heavy and had nothing of the summer anymore. Everything was over.

"Would you like to order a drink?"

Reluctantly she abandoned the contemplation of the skyline and looked at a waiter instead. The nervousness he could barely hide only betrayed the uncertainty of the novices. She smiled at him, restraining some humiliating comment. It was probably his first work day here.

"I will have a Martini, without olives."

The employee nodded and turned around immediately.

She hadn't meant to head so early to Brooklyn but as soon as her plane had landed in JFK, she hadn't been able to restrain the urge to see him. It had been two weeks now, two weeks and one day. The exotic background of Shanghai was still resounding loud in her head but deep inside, she had never really left Manhattan.

She had missed the essence of the city, a lot more than what she would have ever imagined.

Her gaze got lost in the observation of The East River, the way the water was moving with a peaceful, serene fluidity. It could have rocked her to sleep.

"Good evening."

But just as she was succumbing to the jet lag and the laconic movement of the waves, his voice woke her up instantly and she stared at him.

His lips were deprived of smile. The flame in his eyes seemed to have vanished as well. But he still had come over there, accepted her last-minute request.

"It is nice to see you again."

She let him order his own drink then plunged her hazel eyes into his brown ones. It had been way too long since the last time, way too far. They waited in silence for his glass to arrive, almost holding their breath. She knew that her heart wasn't the only one to pound loud that night.

"So you are back. When did you arrive?"

"This morning."

"Where is Stan?"

"In Shanghai. He will be back next week."

He took a sip of his drink, calmly enough. The tension was extreme but it seemed that none of them wanted to abdicate to it. Clearing her voice nervously, she intended a pale smile.

"So what have you done during those past two weeks?"

The question obviously embarrassed him and for the very first time since he had arrived, Will broke eye-contact, vaguely staring at the lights of Manhattan disappear through the mist of September.

"I... I went to Argentina, to Buenos Aires."

All of a sudden, the world stopped turning or at least in her own sphere. The murmurs of people's conversations in the background disappeared until they remained there, alone at their table by the window.

"What... I didn't know that you had planned to go there this summer. Who came along with you?"

"It wasn't planned. Actually I almost canceled because the person I wanted to go with wasn't available anymore but... I needed to go away so I did, by myself."

"Oh..."

"You were the one I wanted to see by my side in Argentina."

The confession made her blush. Desperate to hide it, she chose to reply by a cold, handled anger.

"I am married."

"But you don't love him anymore."

"I never did."

"Are you going to get a divorce?"

She shook her head, looking aside.

"Shanghai only confirmed what we already knew. Our marriage is over and it has been for a very long time now. There is nothing left to save except maybe, our integrity. And yet... Those two weeks turned into a real nightmare, for the both of us. But I still needed to go there."

"Then why don't you leave him? Why don't you two get a divorce? It is what people do when their relationship doesn't work anymore."

"Because I can't. I can't leave him. I am not ready for it. We talked about it and came to some compromises. We keep on living together and attend social events as a married couple but that's all. Not that it will change a lot, anyway."

Her laugh sounded fake. She rolled her eyes to give more strength to her words then shrugged, frowned.

"Why did you sleep with me in the first place, Will?"

"I don't know..."

"Oh come on! We both know that I don't match your usual preferences. Then why me?"

"I have no idea. You kissed me, took me aback and the next thing I knew was that you were in my arms. Grace was out of town, Jack was busy withhis own life... There were just the two of us and I got to know you better, little by little."

"Are you... Are you in love with me?"

"No!"

The honesty of his answer reassured her when it could have sounded offending. She would have had a lot of difficulties to deal with a conversation related to someone's feelings.

"But there is still something about you, Kare. And that I can't deny it."

Something suddenly caught her attention, a peculiar sound on her left. She turned her head around and saw the rain, falling with strength along the windows. The mist was still there, sharing the sky and the city with a late summer storm.

"I may not be ready to leave Stanley but the truth is... I don't want to let you go away either. This is odd. I can't really explain it but there it is. There are a million reasons why we shouldn't do this. I have no plan for you, for us. But have you thought... Maybe there is a reason why we remained silent all along, and hidden. I can't imagine it under other circumstances. It would be impossible and we both know it. But still... This doesn't mean we have to cease our... I kind of like our secrecy. What do you think?"

_**Karen Walker would keep on playing, keep on betting through the years and put her life at high risk. Not because she needed it but because she was addicted. She didn't like losing but for some reason, she only remembered the taste of victory. **_

_**The seconds seemed to get suspended as her last words vanished in the air, carried on by the audacity of her implicit offer.**_

_**After what sounded like an eternity h**__**is hand slid on hers then pressed it reassuringly, knowingly. She looked up at him. **_

_**Karen Walker didn't necessarily owe her victory to an impressive hand or the art of bluffing. No. Her real weapon laid in her tenacity. **_

_**And the way she had to come up with compromises.**_


End file.
